


Sweet Dreams or Nightmares?

by Jasper_Ghost



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: But like.. please don't smack me, M/M, OH YEH, Two is short., and he's thirsty, for dar, i don't know where i'm going with this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21539002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jasper_Ghost/pseuds/Jasper_Ghost
Summary: Two-Bit has been having dreams about Darry, and he's trying to keep them under wraps, feelings tucked down. But how well will that turn out for him when he keeps pushing Darry away from him, unknowingly ruining their long-time friendship?
Relationships: Darrel Curtis/Two-Bit Mathews
Comments: 52
Kudos: 117





	1. One

Two-Bit jolted awake with a gasp, his forehead damp, his gray eyes wide. His cheeks were hotter than Hell, embarrassed from the dream that woke him up. The living room was dark, the only light from the streetlights peering in through the blinds. Glancing at the clock, he let out an annoyed huff when seeing it was only a little past one. “God damn it, brain,” he frowned, fixing up his hair with a trembling hand. His head throbbed with a hangover, having drunk more than his usual, unhealthy, amount of alcohol earlier in the night. He needed painkillers.  
  
For about a month, maybe more, he’s been having dreams of a certain Curtis. Dreams that shocked him awake at random, ungodly hours. Alcohol only made the dreams occur more often, his mind unhinged with the beverage. The dreams were confusing, at first, the only thing he used to dream about being blonde ladies with busts that’d make anyone drool and ogle them. The dreams of the teal-eyed man made him embarrassed, ashamed-- a man shouldn’t dream in the way he did for a buddy. The dreams made him unable to converse with him properly, an uncommon stutter slipping into his speech. He’s kept his dreams under wraps, knowing friends and family would be disgusted, revolted.

He’s been having to act a lot-- good practice, if he were a theater kid-- but having to act all the time, was exhausting to him. Beer bottles he held in front of friends no longer held the intended beverage-- it was tap water, boring, safe tap water. He couldn’t risk drunkenly blabbering to someone about the dreams. Slurs in his words were fake, exaggerations were forced, and he thought he was _amazing_ at it. 

Yet, earlier that night, he was idiotic enough to get drunker than he had intended to be and ended up asleep on the Curtises couch, not wanting his mom or sister to see how much he had drunk. 

Two-Bit rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and reluctantly forced himself up from the couch and down the hall in the limited light of the house. Granted, without light, he would be able to find his way to the bathroom; he’s had to grab painkillers from them so many times. 

The bathroom door opened with a loud, high-pitched creak that made him scrunch up his face in annoyance. He turned on the light and immediately began rummaging through the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, fingers carefully dancing around other bottles of stuff he didn’t know the names of, not wanting to knock them over and make a ruckus so early in the morning. He finally plucked the pills from a shelf, and he downed a few dry, stuffing the bottle back into the cabinet. The taste was as horrible as always, a Pepsi should help. He stepped out of the bathroom, turning off the light, and heading to the kitchen, his boots making light taps against the floor.

With his head stuck in the cool fridge, he searched for a Pepsi, knowing Ponyboy stuffs them in the back so no one else touches them. He wasn’t paying attention to the creaky boards in the hall as someone shuffled over them until an “Ahem” startled him. He tensed up, hand around a bottle of the soda, and he leaned out of the fridge and stared at the source of the noise with wide eyes. The silhouette was immediately recognizable to him, with his broad shoulders, slim hips, and bulky arms. He grinned awkwardly.  
  
“Oh, good mornin’, Dar. D-did I wake ya?”

Darry merely shrugged, not taking much of a notice to the other’s stutter. “Why’re you here, Two?” he asked, his voice deep and slurred. Two-Bit’s heart sped up at the sound of his voice; it sounded so hot, yet Two-Bit's stomach tightened with the guilt that he did wake him up. He didn’t mean to.

“Oh! Got a little too drunk tonight. Kinda surprisin’ I made it here, but uh, I didn’t want my momma or sis to see me like that,” Two-Bit rambled, nervous. Darry only nodded, sleep clouding his mind enough where he didn’t process it too much.

A yawn came from Darry, and he reached past Two-Bit to nudge closed the fridge. “Don’t be so loud next time, others live here too.” Two-Bit nodded, tensing up as the other’s hand came close.

“I-I didn’t think I was bein’ all that loud. I’m sorry, Superman,” he murmured, getting a low chuckle from Darry. The man lightly slapped a hand onto the redhead’s shoulder, shaking his head, 

Fear must’ve shown in his face in response to the action because Darry’s features suddenly looked concerned, the highlighted outlines of his eyebrows pointing down as he furrowed them, his lips in a frown. Two-Bit wasn’t ever afraid, he was always spontaneous, goofy, and given the situation, hilariously flirtatious and wrong. Afraid and scared was odd to see in him. Two-Bit found it just as odd, and he hated it so much. 

“Two-Bit? You okay, bud?” Darry asked in concern, his voice sounding much more awake. Shit. 

“I’m… I’m fine,” he nodded quickly, yet the other didn’t buy it, immediately calling him out.  
  
“You’re scared.”   
  
“I’m not.”   
  
“I can see it in your eyes, Two.”

Two-Bit bit his lip and looked away as if that’ll change anything; it only proved Darry’s point. He plucked the Pepsi bottle from the redhead’s sweaty hands, and he put it on the counter. His arm slipped around Two-Bit’s shoulder, causing his heart to nearly beat out of his chest. He hoped Darry couldn’t hear.

He was already being guided back to the couch before he could process it, and in a blink, he was sitting next to Darry on the couch, the television on and bathing them in a painful light. On the screen were some cartoons, an attempt to calm Two-Bit.

The silence was awkward between them, but thankfully, Darry broke it with a question.   
  
“You wanna tell me what’s wrong?” Two-Bit shook his head, brain trying to latch itself onto the cartoons giddily playing. “Why’s that?” Two-Bit shrugged in response, trying to sink into the couch cushions and disappear: something nobody would’ve thought of him as doing, ever. 

_He can’t know. Can’t ever know._

Darry sighed, making Two-Bit feel all the more awful and regret coming over to the Curtises that night. “You can talk to me,” he murmured, his teal eyes sadly gazing at his redheaded friend.

“Nothin’ is wrong--”  
  


“Bullshit.”

Two-Bit’s eyes fearfully snapped over to Darry. He didn’t swear often unless pissed off, and that’s when he really regretted coming over. He shouldn’t have. He should’ve gone home, slept in his bed, not woken up Darry from whatever peaceful dreams he could’ve been having. They were probably really good dreams, much better than his own. 

“Just tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours.”

“I don’t… I don’t wanna,” he whispered, feeling pathetic. Darry’s eyes softened, and he sighed again, his shoulders slumping with defeat. Two-Bit’s stomach tightened with more regret, and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from blurting something out. The other man got up and silently walked away from the living room, stopping before the hallway.

“Tell me when you’re ready, buddy,” he said softly to him, earning a grumble in response. Darry frowned and disappear into the hallway, a door latching shut. He was gone.

Two-Bit frowned and sunk further into the couch cushions with shame. Cartoons didn’t even make him feel any better, which _really_ showed how he felt. He tilted his head back onto the couch and closed his eyes, letting out a long exhale, his eyelids feeling tons heavier. He wanted to go and apologize for being so stubborn, but there’d be no point, the whole thing would only repeat until sunrise. He allowed his eyes to slip closed, and using the soft sounds of the characters on screen to lull him, he fell into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really sorry for taking so long to get this chapter out. It may seem a bit rushed, but lately I haven’t had much motivation to write due to schoolwork and the amount of writing my teachers want me to do. It sucked the life out of me. BUT I’LL TRY TO DO BETTER! I PROMISE!

“C’mon, Steve! You know you lost!” squeaked a jolly voice, the words shaking with laughter loud enough to bounce off the walls.

“No, I  _ didn’t _ ,” grunted another. A yelp was heard followed by a thump that vibrated the couch Two-Bit sat on.

He squinted open his reluctant eyes and found Steve and Sodapop wrestling on the floor, strained noises coming from the both of them, their hands and arms red from slaps or pulls. Cards were scattered around them, giving him the impression that maybe one of them-- Sodapop-- cheated. It was nothing he hadn’t heard before, so he continued on without getting his train of thought lost. He dragged his arms above his head and stretched, spine giving a painful pop that gained the attention of everyone else in the room.

“Mornin’, sleepin’ beauty,” Steve hummed, getting off of Sodapop and dusting off his permanently dirty jeans like he was innocent. The blonde giggled and greeted Two-Bit as well, sitting up and fixing up his hair. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed, standing from the cushions that seemed to always comfortably mold to his body. He noticed Johnny and Ponyboy were sitting next to him, their eyes gazing up at him with smiles. He softly greeted them and ruffled Ponyboy’s dampened hair, no grease yet in it. 

His stomach already felt tight with hunger, and he faintly wondered how long it had been since he ate last. He couldn’t remember much of yesterday, just arriving at the bar, drinking until he puked in the bushes then some more, then left and had that talk with Darry later on. No food could be found in his memories of that day unless pills were food. They weren’t. A tired sigh came from him, and he trudged to the kitchen, the smell of eggs and toast making him perk up a bit like a dog. It smelled good to him, probably because he hadn’t eaten in who knows how long.

He continued his adventure to the kitchen, the smell of breakfast foods getting stronger and stronger, and suddenly he abruptly stopped. He was just barely in the doorway, and he could see who was cooking the delicious food. 

Darry was humming obliviously, shirt unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled up to show off his bulging muscles. Just the sight made Two-Bit’s mind short circuit, a shameful look coming over his face. Curse that man for looking like a god of sorts with his beautiful physique. 

He blew out a breath, blowing out the thoughts that tainted his sleepy mind, and continued into the kitchen, Darry looking up at the new presence in the room. “Hello, Two,” he said, smiling at him like he wasn’t there last night talking to him. Hopefully, that was the case. “You want breakfast?”

Listening to his tense stomach, Two-Bit nodded, not saying anything, the action getting written off as just him being tired. He wasn’t really that social after waking up before noon. 

Darry hummed and scooped some eggs onto a plate as well as two pieces of toast, handing it to him. Two-Bit thanked him, then glanced down at the food, eyebrows shooting up with faint surprise.

“Everythin’ okay?” Darry asked, concern on his face.

“Yeah,” Two-Bit replied, still staring at his food. Darry had made the eggs exactly how he liked: over easy, and the toast was sprinkled with an unhealthy amount of cinnamon and sugar on top of butter. “Jus’ shockin’ you remember how I like my breakfast.”

“Don’t get why I’d forget,” Darry smiled again, and Two-Bit couldn’t help but return the smile, his chest feeling all fuzzy at the other’s memory.

“Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

The smile wouldn’t wipe away from his face even when he turned away to go eat at the table. Darry called out to the rest of the boys for their food, warning that it’d get cold soon if they horsed around any more. 

Soon, the dining table was surrounded by six boys, all eating and chatting loudly. It was a relief to not have to worry about internal issues for a little while, it let Two-Bit relax while he ate, food going down smoothly, not getting caught in his throat in fear.

However, when he was just finishing up his food, wiping his mouth from the crumbs of his toast, he felt eyes on him. He glanced over and found Darry looking at him, the space between his eyebrows lightly creased with curiosity. Two-Bit forced a grin at him and a playful wink, making the other man shake his head. He felt a spark of nervousness in his stomach, hoping the playful action wasn’t taken wrongly.

He finished up the last bit of his food and stood, an anxiety-inducing squeak of wood against wood making him move the slightest bit fast to the kitchen.

The footsteps following him were loud, heavy, which immediately made his brain jump to the conclusion that Darry was behind him. Once he spun around from the sink, his plate making an annoying clank against the other dishes in there, he was relieved to see Steve there, resisting the urge to grab at his chest over his fast-beating heart. He really didn’t want to have a talk with Darry at the moment.

Steve cocked an eyebrow. “Jeez, seems like someone saw a ghost,” he mumbled, forcing the redhead away from the sink so he could rinse off his plate and stack it on top of his.

“Heh, sorry.”

“You’re sorry for somethin’? What did you do with Two-Bit,” he laughed, nudging him in the ribs harshly, making the look of calm morph into pain.

“Ow, the fuck,” he grunted.

“Boo-hoo.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Someone’s pissy.”

_ More  _ annoyed  _ than anythin’. _

Two-Bit rolled his eyes and huffed. “Ain’t anythin’ in my head concerns you.”

“But your brain is like a kitten on the street: small, and immediately my business if I see somethin’ wrong with it.”

“My brain ain’t small.”

“That report card I saw says otherwise.”

“Shut  _ up _ , Steve.”

Steve huffed as well, “C’mon--”

“Everythin’ alright in ‘ere?”

_ Oh, fuck you, Steve. _


	3. Three

“Is everything alright in here?”

_Oh, God. No._

Of course, out of all people who had to poke their head into the kitchen it had to be Darry. Right in the middle of Steve interrogating him for his odd behavior.

Two-Bit shot a subtle glare at Steve, hoping he’d notice and keep his mouth shut and not involve Darry more than he already was.

“Yes.”

“No.”

_Jesus Christ, Steve._

“Two’s been actin’ awfully strange this mornin’. Been real silent about what’s buggin’ him,” Steve explained to Darry with a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips, ignoring Two-Bit’s annoyed glare.

Unbeknownst to Steve, Darry already knew of the redhead’s behavior, and he felt pity tug lightly at his heart. He knew he was uncomfortable last night when he was questioning him, but Steve was much less… lenient when it came to letting things go. If Two-Bit wasn’t uncomfortable when he was talking to him, he surely would be now.

“C’mon, Steve. Lay off him,” Darry sighed, his shoulders dropping.

Two-Bit’s eyes widen at this. Darry was letting him go? Just like that? He knew he wanted to know what’s been going on with him too. He could see it in his eyes that were now a saddened blue. Dull and not sparkly. 

Relief still filled Two-Bit’s chest, though, glad to be released from the constricting tensity that very, very slowly fizzled from the air of the room.

He glanced over at Steve, whose grin was replaced with a look of frustrated confusion, his brow crinkled, mouth slightly agape in the shape of a small scowl. Clearly, he wanted to interject, force whatever he was hiding out of him. But nobody fought with Darry. 

Steve let out a huff, and he stormed out of the kitchen, his footsteps gently disturbing the small knick-knacks that the Curtis kitchen had decorating the shelves high up on the walls, them rattling on the dark, dusty wood. He was probably going to see what Sodapop was doing, wanting to distract himself from the issues with the redhead greaser.

“Thank you,” Two-Bit breathed once Steve left, his gaze not meeting Darry’s face, his eyes glued to his scuffed up boots. He bit down on his lip, and he moved towards the door, his mind telling him to go home, stop causing issues in the Curtis home. However, before he could leave the room, a large hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

He quickly looked up at Darry, who had grabbed his shoulder, his gray eyes suddenly glazed with panic. 

The older man looked down at him, and he offered him a small smile that he couldn’t help but return shakily. “If he does that again, jus’ tell me, alright?” he said in a soft, caring voice that just made Two-Bit’s insides melt and feel tingly.

“Yeah… yeah, I’ll tell ya,” he replied, his shoulders hitching upwards, looking timid as warmth prickled at the back of his neck and tips of his ears.

“And you’ll tell me what’s been goin’ on with you once you feel comfortable, yes?”

Two-Bit’s shoulders moved up further to be almost level with his chin, nose scrunching up, causing the small space between his eyebrows to crinkle. He fidgeted with his fingers, just slightly, not enough to be noticeable, and he gave an unsure hum.

“Maybe… But I ain’t promisin’ anythin’,” Two-Bit sighed, forcing Darry’s hand to slide away from its spot on his shoulder.

Darry, too, gave a sigh, hand moving into his pocket. He frowned, a new sense of hopelessness filling his chest. He just wanted to help his buddy. Two-Bit usually wasn’t this stressed or distraught about something; he was happy-go-lucky, a smile always on his face. But last night and today, he looked as if he was forcing his happy attitude. It didn’t feel genuine anymore. How long has he been like this? All weird and awkward around the gang, forcing himself to be happy.

He wanted the old Two-Bit back.

“I won’t judge ya for anythin’ you have to say. I’m gonna be here to listen, always,” Darry said, trying to smile at Two-Bit again, but Two-Bit barely could return it. It was only a small tug at the corner of his lips, and it quickly dropped back into that uncomfortable expression that tried to normalize itself on his face. 

“Lemme think ‘bout it…” 

And with that, Two-Bit stepped out of the kitchen, leaving Darry standing there, an almost sad, longing look in his silvery teal eyes as he watched the redhead left. 

Two-Bit grabbed his leather jacket off the back of the living room couch and tugged it on his body, zipping it up all the way to his neck before he stepped outside into the unusually cold air. 

His breath made small puffs in the air, and he stepped off the front porch and began his journey home, to his family, to people he could be comfortable enough to talk to about his issues in vague details. 


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small warning before the chapter: there is small mentions of blood. Tiny little things like descriptions. I don’t know if that’s much to trigger someone, but I’m just being safe.

After Two-Bit left, Darry was filled with many questions. Questions that ate at him horribly, worse than his stress about work and bills.

_Why doesn’t Two trust me?_

_Did I do something wrong?_

_What did I do wrong?_

Darry frowned and let out a sigh, shaking his head in attempt to rid himself of those mind-cluttering questions. People were still there, happy, laughing, enjoying each other’s company, so he had to keep himself together. Two-Bit was still his buddy. He’s been his buddy for over ten years, there would be no reason why he’d hate him or not trust him. Maybe he just needed time to think things out.

_Yeah… that’s it._

With another shake of his head, he went into the lively dining room, mind now set on getting a bit of cleaning done.

He flashed a quick smile at Steve, Johnny, and his brothers as he stepped around the table, picking up their empty dishes, stacking them up in his left hand. However, before he went back into the kitchen, a voice called out to him.

“Darry?”

Darry paused and turned his head, eyebrows raised expectantly at his second youngest brother, who had been the one to get his attention.

“Could I have the truck today?” Sodapop asked, hope making his voice raise ever so slightly in pitch. “I got a date tonight, and I promised Sandy I’d pick her up after work.”

A snort suddenly came from Steve, and Sodapop slapped him lightly to shut him up. Perhaps there was something more to this date, but Darry didn’t question it. He only grinned and fished his keys out of his pocket, an obnoxious jingle ringing from them as he tossed them to his brother. 

“Go ahead. Just be careful, you hear?” he cautioned, disappearing into the kitchen, laughter alongside squeaks of chair legs rubbing against the floor erupting as soon as his back was turned again.

After a loud slam of the front door, the house went suspiciously quiet. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was a quarter past eight. Sodapop and Steve would’ve just headed out for work, naturally, but Ponyboy and Johnny didn’t have school. It was a teacher's workday. They should still be there. 

He abandoned the sink, letting it gradually fill with soapy suds and steaming water. He peeked into the still dining room, chairs pushed out from their spots at the table, showing that life used to be there, but it wasn’t there anymore. His gaze then moved towards the living room, just as still as the dining room. Ponyboy and Johnny must’ve went out with the other two. 

He lets out a grunt.

_He could’ve told me he was leaving._

Darry took another look at the two unlively rooms, and he went back to the kitchen, the soap bubbles nearly overflowing the sink, earning a curse from him as he rushed to shut off the faucet. The silence that followed after his little panic refreshed his memory, and it made him realize that he was alone. No one was home. No one he had to keep himself put together for. His thoughts could wander, twist, turn, crawl into deep dark crevices that he didn’t want to go. But he had chores to do, so clanks of porcelain and glass and sloshing of water were the only thing he allowed to fill his mind.

However, eventually, his mind began to slip towards thoughts of his distancing friend, his hands on autopilot, scrubbing down the messy silverware.

He bit down on his lip, an attempt at holding back a frown.

He still remembered when he and Two-Bit first met. 1953, second grade, it was early in the school year, and his class had book buddies that they met with twice a week. Two-Bit was one of the kids in the kindergarten class that their class was paired to. 

He was the loudest and most energetic kid there, but he only figured that out after Two-Bit became his buddy. Two-Bit’s original buddy had gotten annoyed with how rambunctious he was, so he requested a new kindergartener to read with. 

And that’s how the two of them met.

Ever since then, Two-Bit has been at his side. Literally. He followed him around like a lost puppy during recess every day. His friends found it cute, and they even treated him like a puppy due to his younger age and puppy-like actions.

Two-Bit just was always there. Always. Especially after they learned that their parents used to go to school with each other.

_Why can’t Two just trust me?_

_Why can’t he tell me what’s wrong?_

_What was causing Two not to talk to me without hesitation and fear?_

_Does... Does he hate me—_

“Shit!” Darry screeched in pain, dropping the knife he was cleaning into the grayed water with a small splash. Crimson soaked the dish rag he held, and he quickly dropped it too, landing on the counter with a splat. He shakily examined his wounded hand. Thankfully, nothing seemed badly damaged, just a slice on his index and middle finger.

With a heaving chest, he moved out of the kitchen and immediately into the bathroom. He dug the old medkit out from beneath the sink. He fumbled with the clasps holding it shut, but once opened, he went for the disinfectant and doused his burning fingers with it, earning a hiss from him and a few tears. 

“Jesus _fuck_ ,” he cursed out as he dabbed the blood away with a clump of toilet paper, yet it didn’t do much. More and more blood gushed from his hand, making him feel a bit queasy. He took a breath and grabbed the bandages and gauze next, wrapping his hand up tight, attempting to temporarily cut off feeling to it.

Already reddening bandages and gauze now decorated his hand, stopping just before where his wrist bent, not wanting to completely limit the movement of his hand. He shoved the medkit back into its spot, and he went to the kitchen, draining the sink, unable to work up the courage to continue washing the dishes. He’ll just ask Ponyboy to do it once he’s home. 

“Ain’t it just my lucky day,” Darry huffed as he picked up the bloodied rag, mind deciding that he could do laundry instead. They were running out of clean towels anyway. 

Yet, he wasn’t running out of questions to ask himself. 

They echoed violently, repeating over, and over, and over, and he didn’t understand why he was so caught up over something Two-Bit didn’t want to tell him. It’s his personal business… but why was he so… obsessed?

He felt like he needed to see him again, soon, despite him knowing Two-Bit got uncomfortable from his and Steve’s questioning. But his need to know gnawed at him, like nicotine to a recovering addict. He just wanted to help.


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small warning before the chapter: there is small mentions of blood. Tiny little things like descriptions. I don’t know if that’s much to trigger someone, but I’m just being safe. 
> 
> I should add this warning to chapter four... I’m gonna do that now.

They don’t know how long it’s been since they’ve last talked to each other, but they both knew it’s been long enough for there to be a thick tension between them. It was thick enough that they couldn’t even look at each other when they were in the same room.

The tension only affected them. No one else could feel it.

Darry was afraid to hear the words “I hate you” or similar come from Two-Bit. He felt like if he heard him say them to him, his insides would die, disintegrate into nothing but pain until his suffering was over, and it was just a dull tingle in his gut. He’s felt that a few times in high school, once in middle school. It was torture. Yet, he couldn’t place a finger on why he felt that way with Two-Bit. It was odd. So, he kept his mouth shut around him to prevent himself from hearing those words.

Two-Bit, on the other hand, was afraid to admit to what’s been bugging him lately, as he has been lately. He knew nobody would accept him for being a homosexual, especially not Darry. Darry was accepting of most things, a lot of things, but Two-Bit knew if he told him he had a thing for him, a really big thing for him, he would be kicked out and told to never return. He didn’t want to lose a buddy that way. Over something as dumb as love.

However, that silence finally broke one day when Two-Bit was sitting criss cross in front of the Curtis’ television, watching whatever that was on as he waited for Dally to come over. They were going out to the races that afternoon, and they had agreed to meet up at the Curtis home. Darry was moving about the living room, cleaning, as always. It was the only thing he could do in his free time now besides think and go to the gym and think some more. 

He passed in front of the television multiple times as he cleaned, multiple apologies being murmured each time.

Then, Two-Bit noticed something the fifth, or sixth, time Darry passed in front of him: dirty, old bandages wrapped thickly around his left hand, extending to his fingers. He couldn’t help but reach out and lightly touch the bandages, feeling the crusty, dried blood on his wrapped up fingers. Darry stopped in his tracks and looked down at the redhead, eyes wide.

Two-Bit stared back, brow furrowed in concern. 

“What happened?” he asked softly, throwing away his fears of speaking to the older man.

Darry seemed hesitant to answer, lips pulled into a taut smile as if he was remembering the burning pain from days prior.

“I wasn’t paying attention when washing the dishes,” he answered truthfully, hoping to leave it at that as he tried to remove his hand from Two-Bit’s delicate hold.

Two-Bit snorted and shook his head, cracking a small grin at the explanation. “That doesn’t seem like you,” he commented, keeping his hand on his. He took another glance at the bandages, and his grin dropped into a look of disgust at the old blood on them. “Lemme help you change these.”

“Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I can do it on my own,” Darry said dismissively, finally taking his hand back, even though there wasn’t a fight to get it back.

“Darry,” Two-Bit frowned, standing up from the rug he had been sitting on, “you’re always gettin’ on all our cases for wearin’ old bandages, sayin’ our cuts are gonna get infected.” He took Darry’s hand again and led him to the bathroom, too stubborn and worried to think about the fact he was holding hands with the guy he was really into.

A defeated sigh came from Darry as he was forced to sit on the closed toilet lid in his bathroom. He watched Two-Bit rummage through the cabinet under the sink, much calmer than he had when he got his injury, and he pulled out the medkit, setting it down on the sink. Two-Bit opened it and took out the bandages then the gauze after Darry softly reminded him of it. 

Carefully he began peeling back the old bandages covering Darry’s hand, nose scrunching up slightly at the gross smell that came from them the more he removed them, and Darry felt kind of silly for not changing them sooner. However, this gave him the opportunity to study the man who was slowly unwrapping his hand. 

Never had he realized how… entertaining it was to watch Two-Bit be so focused. He hasn’t seen him so focused in a long time. His movements were slow and cautious, clearly not wanting to hurt Darry. He swayed slightly on his feet, his brow furrowed in concentration, and he even poked out his tongue between his lips. It was… cute.

_Wait…_ cute _?_

Darry’s eyes widened at his thoughts, and he slightly drew his hand back in a faint panic, making Two-Bit think he must’ve hurt him.

“Sorry,” he had murmured quietly, the hand holding Darry’s hurt one sliding up to his wrist so he couldn’t move away again. The action made Darry’s heart race, and his skin tingle around Two-Bit’s hold. 

“It’s… okay,” Darry replied with hesitation, his voice no louder than a whisper. His hesitation wasn’t picked up by the other man, who had now tossed the old gauze and bandages into the trash. He tilted Darry’s hand back and forth, cocking a surprised eyebrow as he inspected the deep cut on his fingers. He rubbed a gentle thumb over the scabbing blood, it dark with age, and Darry fought back a grimace, the touch sending small sparks of pain through his hand and arm.

“You did a real number on your fingers,” Two-Bit commented, dryly chuckling at his friend’s unusual clumsiness. He turned and grabbed a nearby towel. It was white. It was surely going to stain. Hopefully the blood would eventually come out.

Before Two-Bit could bring the towel to his skin, Darry jolted back, a grunt coming from his as his back hit the back of the toilet. Two-Bit’s eyebrows shot up, and all Darry could say was, “Let me do it.”

He nodded, and he handed over the towel, turning his head away some so he wouldn’t have to see Darry’s expression as he cleaned his wounds. Sure, he’s seen people in pain before, and even Darry on a few rare occasions. But he now dreams about him… a lot. Seeing him in pain wasn’t really a thing he wanted to do at that moment. The sharp inhales were enough for his chest to ache.

After a moment, the now stained towel was tossed into the bathroom sink, Darry heaving a relieved sigh once he was done prodding at his wounds, which had begun to bleed again, but not as heavily as before. Shakily he returned his hand to Two-Bit, who held his hand so gently that it made him tense up, that warm tingle returning. More questions filled him.

_Why are you making me feel this way Two?_

_Do you_ not _hate me?_

_You do trust me? Is that why you’re helping me?_

“Uh. Dar?” Two-Bit said, having noticed Darry staring at him with a blank expression, his eyes wide with concern. When their eyes met, his heart began to race, suddenly realizing how close they were. He was practically standing on Darry’s toes. He took a small step back and smiled awkwardly.. 

Darry blinked and quickly averted his gaze, chuckling.

“Sorry.”

Two-Bit chuckled as well, the awkwardness seemingly lifting from the air around them the more he laughed. “It’s okay,” he replied, picking up the gauze. “How come you didn’t replace them sooner?” he then asked, unraveling the roll just a tad and pinning the end under his thumb as he slowly wrapped Darry’s hand, making sure everything was snug against his skin.

Darry looked up at the redhead. That cute, focused look was on his face again, except he was smiling this time. He couldn’t tell if him poking his tongue out or the smile looked better, but he felt like he could look at either one any day. 

“I didn’t want to waste the stuff,” he finally answered, motioning to the medkit.

“That’s a dumb reason to get an infection,” Two-Bit informed, earning a chuckle from Darry. 

“I guess.”

Neither of them spoke of or asked for their reasonings for avoiding each other. That wasn’t on their minds at the moment. It was peaceful for once between them. No worries. No anything. They didn’t want to ruin it. It was nice.

“Aaaaand, I’m done,” sang Two-Bit finally, ripping the bandages and tucking it securely in place. He took a step back from Darry again, having unknowingly moved closer to him as he was working on the bandages. He began packing up the leftover bandages and gauze in the faded gray medkit.

Darry stood up and sighed, looking down at the new, clean bandages on his hand. His heart swelled in his chest at the amount of care Two-Bit took to wrap them. 

_Two must not hate me._

He stepped behind him and locked eyes with the man’s reflection, and he flashed him a sweet smile. “Thanks, Two,” he said, placing his hand on his shoulder, giving it a small, appreciative squeeze. 

Two-Bit nodded, a wide smile coming to his lips, the corners meeting his eyes. “No problem,” he replied, snapping the kit shut. He turned, not commenting on how close they were, “You better be careful next time. You might lose a finger or two.”

“Yeah, I know,” Darry sighed. “At least now I know to come to you if it happens again. You’re real good at wrapping.”

A snort came from Two-Bit, cheeks a faint pink. “Oh, shaddup.”

Before Darry could reply, the front screeched open and slammed shut. Judging by the quietness that followed, it had to have been Dally there to pick up Two-Bit. Two-Bit gave Darry a quick smile, and he stuffed the medkit back under the sink before slipping out of the bathroom.

“Hey, man. Ready?” Dally asked once he saw the redhead.

“Yeah, c’mon.”

Dally nodded and pushed himself up from the couch he had just settled on. He slapped a hand onto Two-Bit’s back and lightly shoved him in front of himself, making him take the lead outside. However, before they made it out the door, Two-Bit snapped his head to Darry and waved him goodbye with a large grin that made Darry’s heartbeat stutter.

“Be safe, you guys,” Darry said, sincerity behind his words. He knew that with both of their track records and personalities, well… they could get into some real trouble if they weren’t careful. He didn’t want to see either of them behind bars.

Especially Two-Bit.

But he knew if he got his mugshot in the paper, he would have that cute grin of his on his lips, taunting whoever was behind the camera and all that read his and Dally’s story, like he just knew he wasn’t staying in there longer than just a day or two. 

_Jesus, what are you doing to me, Two?_


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning (maybe): some playful, insulting descriptions of people/behavior. I don’t know what may be classified as triggering, but I’m just being careful. Also there’s alcohol mentioned.

After a pleasant time at the races, full of bets and losses of said bets, Dally and Two-Bit ventured down to Buck’s. They had to return the T-Bird to him before heading anywhere else.

Once they returned the car keys to Buck, they went down to a nearby bar that they knew didn't card anybody as long as they looked old enough. They were quickly surrounded by country music and chatter of patrons, and they sat down in a booth with a beer each. It was odd to see the booth they sat in unoccupied for once. It was the sweet spot of the bar, the music softer and bearable, it usually blaring loud enough to make the whole building deaf, the stench of the bathrooms nonexistent, same with the gross, affection addicted couples. Creaks from the rooms above still existed. The loud music meant to cover them. However, the creaks were nicer to listen to than some sad, lonesome drawl about a girlfriend leaving. 

Sipping silently on his beer, Dally’s gaze roamed the room, eventually landing on a girl who was around their age. No doubt a bit older judging by her more worn out features painted with layers of makeup. Her makeup was a little smudged, a dark red lip print on the rim of her glass she swung around as she spoke expressively with her hands. He nudged Two-Bit and motioned to her. “What do you think?” he asked: a typical question that was asked whenever the two of them went out to a bar.

Two-Bit looked over at the girl. She was his type. Blonde, social, and she rocked the miniskirt. The sight of her would’ve typically had him interested, and maybe even hooked.

He didn’t feel anything for her, though. That’s a rarity for him.

“She’s… alright,” he shrugged, earning a slightly confused look from Dally, a dark eyebrow raised subtly as to maintain his cold expression. He took a sip of his beer and looked back over at him. “What?” he asked after swallowing.

“Since when did you say ‘alright’ to a gal like her?” Dally snorted, that cold expression melting into a softer one, an amused grin spreading across his lips. He put down his beer and leaned forward some, elbows resting on the table between them. 

Two-Bit shrugged again, taking another sip. He didn’t want to say anything about him swinging the other way. He didn’t know if he could trust Dally. They’ve been friends for a while, sure, but that uncertainty still remained despite that.

A scoff came from the other side of the table, and Dally knocked on the table in front of Two-Bit, his ring making a loud enough thunk to grab his attention. He looked up, eyebrows raised, having zoned out. “I kinda need an actual answer,” Dally pestered.

“What was the question again?” 

Dally sighed, not liking having to repeat himself. “When did you stop saying that a gal in a miniskirt like that was ‘smokin’ hot’?” 

Two-Bit frowned and bit down on his tongue. With a furrowed brow he stared at Dally, studying him harder than he did than any test, trying to figure out if he truly could trust him. Glory, he wasn’t as good at figuring people out as he had thought. Maybe it was just Dally. He was always an odd guy. He swallowed nervously and leaned back into the smooth leather of his seat.

“What’s your thoughts on… gays?” he asked suddenly with hesitation.

Dally’s eyebrows shot up past his messy bangs, and he leaned back as well, processing the question. “I mean, they’re alright in my book. Met a rare few of them back in New York. Nicer than a lot of the people ‘round here,” he explained finally, earning a nod from Two-Bit and a much-relieved expression. Dally noticed his relief and perked up some, curiosity dancing behind his cold eyes. “You’re playing for _that_ team, eh?”

Two-Bit flushed and nodded again, making sure his head movements were subtle in case somebody was listening in. 

“I’m guessing you got someone on your mind then.”

“Yeah,” whispered Two-Bit, feeling a light weight lift from his chest and shoulders, heart pounding in his ribs. A small smile curled onto his lips, and he raised his beer to his lips and took a long swig, the taste calming. “He’s been on my mind a whooole lot,” he added, chuckling, remembering his recent dreams.

Silence fell between them, a southern voice distantly humming in the air. Their beers were getting lower and lower each minute, and once Dally’s was empty, he looked over at the redhead across from him. “You gonna say who it is?” he prodded, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

“You gonna tell anybody?”

“Pssh, who the hell do you think I am?”

Two-Bit shrugged, a small chuckle escaping him.

“C’mon, I won’t tell anybody. I ain’t a snitch, man.”

“Pinky promise?” Two-Bit asked, holding out his hand, it shaking nervously with his pinky pointed out. Dally snorted at the childish action, cocking an eyebrow at him as if to ask if he was serious. Two-Bit was dead serious, and he showed it by thrusting his hand closer to Dally. 

He sighed and lazily linked one of his pinkies with Two-Bit’s, “Promise.” He then swatted his friend’s hand away from him.

Two-Bit sighed deeply, shoulders dropping as some of his nervousness melted away from him. “So it’s— he’s from our gang,” he elaborated. Dally rolled his eyes and did a small hand motion for him to continue. “It’s a guy—”

“I know that,” Dally snapped, wanting to cut to the chase.

“Alright, alright. It’s Darry, okay? It’s him. Happy?” Two-Bit said, face burning with shame. He huffed and hastily finished off his beer.

“That it?” Dally teased, grinning at Two-Bit, who nodded and sank into his seat in an attempt to hide himself. His attempt clearly failed, since Dally could still see him, looking more scared than he’s ever seen him. It was funny, so funny that he had to bark out a laugh.

It wasn’t funny to Two-Bit, though.

“Shut up will you?” he grunted, frowning. A half assed apology was muttered, and he relaxed some. “I jus’ don’t wanna get kicked out or somethin’, Dal. I’ve known him for such a long time and—”

“You sound like a chick.”

Two-Bit groaned and scrubbed at his face in frustration. “I ain’t gettin’ soft, Dal,” he said.

“Sure seems like you are.”

“I ain’t!”

“Uhuh, sure.”

“I’m serious, Dally.”

“That’s a first,” Dally chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at Two-Bit. Boy, did he look mad. His face was getting red and his eyes were practically bulging from their sockets.

“Can you _not_?”

Dally shrugged, Two-Bit let out another groan. “Look, when you’re done being all soft, I’ll be a little more reasonable. I’m gonna be here for you, but not in your little softy, chicky way,” he explained.

“I get that… but I ain’t… soft,” Two-Bit tried to argue, but both of them could tell that he had given up. He wasn’t going to admit that Darry had been making him a little soft but in the back of his mind, he knew he was. “You wanna leave now, or?” he asked, changing the topic.

“We’ve only had one drink, though. Glory, you must be severely off-kilter.”

“There ain’t any tail for me to catch here, Dally,” Two-Bit pointed out, fidgeting with his empty bottle, reading the small lettering on the label. “If I get too buzzed then my whole brain will go haywire, and I kinda wanna sleep soundly tonight.”

“Oh, c’mon. At least have one more drink before you leave. We practically just got here.”

Two-Bit sighed. “Okay, alright. I’ll stay, just don’t let me get too hammered.”

“That’s gonna be impossible.”

“Just try.”


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long-ish absence, I hope you enjoy the somewhat longer chapter today. It may take the same amount of time to get chapter eight with online school starting tomorrow, so I apologize in advance.

_ Laughter bubbled lightly between them, smiles displayed wide on their lips, reaching their eyes, pressing dimples into their cheeks. Their faces radiated happiness vibrantly. Neither knew why they were laughing, but they were enjoying each other’s company. _

_ He held Darry tight, arms wrapped around his middle, his cheek against his chest. He didn’t know how he’d gotten to this point with him. He didn’t even know why he wasn’t nervous around him, stuttering, shaking, afraid. He didn’t feel any of it. He felt ecstatic, his heart giving happy, distant thumps like a faint bass drum, keeping the tempo to a slow love song.  _

_ Darry pressed a kiss to his forehead, and he opened his mouth, yet his voice was muffled when he spoke, muted like a brass instrument. He couldn’t make out any words besides his own name. _

_ “...Keith…” _

_ He didn’t understand what Darry had said, but Darry didn’t seem to mind his lost expression in response to his words. He only flashed him a dazzling smile that made his bass drum of a heart pound faster. He’s never seen that smile before. However, he wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.  _

_ He returned the smile and brought Darry closer, unable to hear his heartbeat unlike his own despite his ear being right on top of where his heart was. He did hear another muffled sentence, though, and he promptly looked up as if that would help him make out any words. He still couldn’t. No words could be made out besides: _

_ “... Keith…” _

_ “..Keith..” _

“Keith!”

Two-Bit grunted and squinted open his eyes, an annoyed scowl forming on his face as pain throbbed in his skull, his rose-tinted dream disintegrating into nothing. Dally had to of not had stopped him from drinking his weight in alcohol. How he managed to get home safely— he assumed safely since he only felt pain in his brain, nowhere else, so he knew he didn’t have any broken limbs— was beyond him.

“Keith, c’moooon. Wake up! We’re gonna be late for school,” his sister whined, shaking him mercilessly, unknowing to his previous night of drinking. Two-Bit could only weakly swat away her hands, staring at her with a drowsy, confused stare.

“We have school?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with sleep.

She nodded hastily, her red curly hair bouncing crazily as she did, her eyes wide with urgency. “There’s only about twenty minutes before the doors open, Keith. I can’t be late, Jenny’s gonna quickly help me finish up my math homework, and math’s first hour, so I  _ gotta _ be there,” she explained so quickly in one breath that she was huffing softly once she was done. Two-Bit would’ve been impressed if he wasn’t hungover and tired. How long had he stayed up? That didn’t matter right now.

“Okay… okay. Ugh… get out and get me some painkillers, strong ones or whatever you can find in the kitchen,” he sighed, sitting up slowly from his bed, running a hand through his hair. He glanced over at his sister and murmured, “please?” knowing she was waiting for him to say that before she did anything for him. When he did, she chuckled softly and smiled, relief visibly washing over her, shoulders dropping, glad she wasn’t going to be late for homeroom. She turned and walked out of her older brother’s room, shutting the door so he could get ready.

Two-Bit sat up a little more, and he rubbed at his face. He was actually enjoying that dream, damn it. It was the only one without sexual activity, and he was glad it was softer. He wasn’t ashamed of it being soft. He loved it. A dopey smile curled onto his lips, remembering the short, small events of the dream, and he got up from his bed, shuffling to his dresser, dressing himself in his usual attire of jeans and a Mickey Mouse sleeveless shirt.

He fixed his hair using the grease leftover from last night. He tucked his comb in his front right pocket, switchblade in his back left, and his wallet in his back right. Once he deemed himself as ready, he stepped out of his room and graciously accepted the pills his sister offered to him as he passed her in the kitchen doorway. He tilted his head back as he swallowed them, and he then said, “Let’s go, girly.”

She smiled wide and chased after her brother as he made his way down the hall to the living room, her shoes tapping excitedly against the floor. Two-Bit pulled on his shoes and grabbed his keys before motioning her outside. It was sunny out, warm, and the birds singing their happy songs to each other. It would’ve been a perfect day for a weekend, but alas, it wasn’t.

They made their way to his old wreck of a car and got in and set off towards the middle school, Two-Bit waiting for the pills to kick in as the sunlight brightly glared into his eyes. 

Once he pulled into the carpool lane with a plentiful amount of minutes to spare, he gave his sister a sweet smile. “Want me to pick you up after?” he asked before she hopped out. She turned and returned the smile.

“Sure, Keith. Just don’t forget this time— wait, gimme your hand,” she demanded, pulling a pen out of her backpack, clicking out the point. A car behind them honked, but they ignored it as Two-Bit cautiously gave her his hand. 

She scribbled a reminder onto his palm, the ballpoint tickling him, making him grin, and she returned his hand to him and finally left the car, waving goodbye to her brother as she rushed to the front doors. He made sure she had fully gotten inside before driving off, the loud, continuous blaring of car horns behind him disappearing as he made it onto the road again, heading in the direction of the high school now. He decided to actually go to school today instead of playing hooky.

He parked in his usual spot beside Steve’s car in the back parking lot, and he got out, the warm air comforting as he walked towards the school, passing scattered groups of people he knew. He knew practically everyone in the school, didn’t matter if they were greaser or Soc. He just always had to talk to somebody during class, so he met a lot of people. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut for the life of him. Well, when it came to his homosexuality, then he knew how. Funny.

He flashed his iconic grin to a few people who called out to him, occasionally waving, and he continued onwards into the loud, echoey hallway of the school. Steve was going to find him eventually, he always did. He could go to his locker and hang about with some buddies though before he found him and they left for homeroom and first hour.

———

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of first hour, and Two-Bit was there in class, actually there, sitting in his assigned seat, and on time. It was science class, he didn’t know what topic they were learning today, but he didn’t care. He only liked it when they did lab experiments, you get to make explosions and other fun things like that which would get you tossed in detention faster than you can say an apology. The reactions were always worth it, though. Always brightened a few people’s days. However, they weren’t doing a lab. It was a note-taking day, apparently, there was a test at the end of the week. Now he knew what day to skip class. 

He huffed out a sigh and bored as he watched the teacher scribble nonsense on the board. She was probably explaining something important, so important that he  _ should _ be taking notes like everyone else, but she was speaking in such a monotone voice, adding no amusement to teaching, so he couldn’t pay attention whatsoever. He also had nothing to take notes with. He couldn’t open his locker for the life of him. Not like he would be able to find his science notebook in all the trash that had gradually piled up in his locker. His backpack was in there somewhere, but he wouldn’t be able to find it until the end of the year when everyone would be forced to empty their lockers.

Gradually, his eyelids began to droop the more and more his teacher droned on and on. Her voice was like a lullaby. Except it was boring him to sleep rather than peacefully lull him. 

He rested his head on his arms and allowed his eyes to slip closed, there wasn’t much of a fight to keep them open in the first place, and he passed out at his desk.

_ “Hey,” came a muffled yet echoey voice, arms coming to drape themselves around his shoulders with a light, tingling touch. _

_ He looked up, and he immediately smiled when seeing Darry’s cheery expression staring down at him. His heartbeat began thumping loud like a drum again, playing fast triplets in his head. He wasn’t expecting to come back here, but oh boy would he rather be there than a science lesson. He didn’t even know where he was. A small glance around showed just a dark void. He didn’t have much of an imagination it seemed.  _

_ Muffled words brought his focus back to the tall man before him. He was the brightest thing in the void, colors standing out strong against the dark. He couldn’t look away. The dark was boring, far less entertaining than staring at the man he fancied talk jumbled nonsense that he would never, ever understand. Darry didn’t seem to care that he didn’t understand, just like before. It was like he was enjoying his company as much as he was his. Just the thought of that possibility made the triplets speed up and his lips curl into a smile, exposing his teeth, his cheeks tingling from how wide his smile stretched.  _

_ Darry continued talking, eyes excitedly staring at him through a faint haze, the icy teal piercing like a sharp knife or sewing needle. He always liked his eyes, thought they were much more interesting than his plain gray eyes. He remembered commenting on that once, Darry only laughed and shook his head in response, saying that they were just eyes, nothing special. He could almost hear his voice distantly saying that, hear his laugh. God, if someone could peek into his mind, they’d think he was crazy for thinking of him so much. _

_ Suddenly, a laugh came from Darry, like he was reacting to his thoughts. He sure hoped he wasn’t. Darry then pulled him closer, no warmth being gained from the closeness, and he pressed a kiss to his face. That’s when a rush of warmth came to his cheeks, no doubt they were stained a dark red from the fact Darry was laughing again. More and more kisses were peppered all over his face, yet none against his lips. He was far too flustered to be disappointed by that fact, his heart pounding, face burning hot, thoughts racing. _

The bell then rang, snapping Two-Bit abruptly from his dream, head shooting up from his arms. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and rubbed at his face as he got up from his desk and followed the flow of fellow students out of the classroom. Steve walked after him and raised an eyebrow when he saw his red face. “You have a good dream?” he teased. “I saw ya sleepin’ at your desk. Surprised you didn’t start snoring halfway through Ms. Low’s lesson.”

Two-Bit groggily rolled his eyes and grinned. “I wasn’t dreamin’,” he lied, earning a scoff from his friend.

“Your face almost perfectly matches your hair in color. You’re spoutin’ bull shit, Two.”

“No, I ain’t. I wasn’t dreamin’ about anything. Lay off now.”

“Was it about Bethany, that blonde in gym class?” Steve hummed, a small smile forming on his face as he remembered said girl. Bethany was a real popular girl, a senior, a Soc, and drop-dead gorgeous in many boys’ eyes. She was like a whole packaged deal to any lucky guy able to get her to go on a date with them. It would be appropriate to assume she’d be the one Two-Bit would dream about. 

Two-Bit once had a thing for her. That thing was dead now and in the past. However, he had to once again lie and mutter, “Yeah, her. Dreamin’ about her.” Steve seemed pleased with this answer rather than his previous lie, his smile growing into a wide toothy grin. 

“I knew it,” he gloated and punched Two-Bit’s arm as a weak punishment for lying to him.

Two-Bit huffed. “Yeah, yeah.”

As they neared the hall where their next classes were, Steve guiding the two of them through the crowds, but before they reached their neighboring classrooms, Two-Bit kept walking past them. Steve furrowed his brow and paused in the doorway of his math class, and he soon chased after the redhead. 

“Where are you goin’? Your English class is back there,” he said, pointing back towards the two classrooms. 

“Out,” Two-Bit replied simply. He was heading out to talk to Dally. He’s the only one who knew about his little crush, and he felt the sudden need for advice. Advice on how to either get over it or admit it without getting hit or forgotten. He can’t be falling asleep in class and having dreams of Darry, waking up flustered every time. This hasn’t been the first time it’s happened, at least the third, fourth, or fifth time. It’s almost a bit embarrassing for it to happen in class, then having to lie about it later is even worse.

“And I thought you were gonna be in class all day today.”

“I thought the same! But here I am. Now, excusez-moi,” Two-Bit said in a fake French accent as he pushed open the door he’d been heading to. “I‘ll see ya later, Steve. Tell me if anythin’ happens while I’m away.”

Steve, with a disappointed sigh, gave Two-Bit a goodbye and a will do. He was kind of hoping to have a good buddy around to hang with, but he couldn’t stop him from leaving. Two-Bit always went off and did whatever he pleased, not taking no as an answer. 

Two-Bit smiled at him and left the building, door slamming behind him, echoing down the school halls as he walked down the steps.

Guess he was going to enjoy that sunny day after all.


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry for the delayed chapter. Hopefully, updates will come out quicker now!

“Hey, Barbie! I was lookin’ for ya!” Two-Bit exclaimed from his car, earning an annoyed glance from the blonde greaser he had called out to. He grinned ear to ear, relieved to have finally found Dally slinking down the road, possibly to cause some kind of trouble, but he didn’t care. It took him almost an hour to find the guy. He didn’t care if he was interrupting something. He drove his car up to the curb and shouted for him to come inside over the low rumbles of the engine and music he had playing in the background.

Dally cocked a dark eyebrow and walked up to the junky car, sliding into the passenger seat, exhaling the smoke from the cigarette that hung from his cold frown. “Why were you looking for me?” he asked, leftover smoke escaping his lips in small clouds.

“I need someone to talk to.”   
  
“And ya chose me outta everybody?” Dally hummed, gaze slipping towards the redhead, eyebrow remaining raised.   
  
“Who else can I talk to about… y’know, Darry,” Two-Bit phrased awkwardly with a small hand motion to help his words flow better. He wasn’t used to talking like this, all vulnerable-like. He really was getting all soft for Darry. It felt weird. He’s always loud and proud and chatty about everything, even embarrassing things about himself that would surely make anyone else blush and grimace if they were to say the things he did. Dally nodded, understanding the redhead’s words despite his phrasing.   
  
“Makes sense.”

“So…”   
  
“So?”

“I’ve been dreamin’ of him a lot, for a long while. He keeps just showin’ up in my head,” Two-Bit elaborated, avoiding Dally with his gaze as he drove down the road. Faint memories of his recent dreams drifted in his head, making his face flush lightly, a dopey smile attempting to plaster itself on his lips. Sure, the dreams were annoying, but he liked them, a lot. The recent one, the softer one, that had to be his favorite. He always did like the more affectionate side of relationships: hand holding, cuddling, kisses, the kind of stuff that would make butterflies erupt in one’s stomach and their palms shaking and sweaty. It might sound soft for him to admit, but he did like it. “I feel like I should talk to Darry. I jus’... jus’ don’t goddamn know how.”   
  
Dally chuckled lowly and leaned forward to turn down the radio, the music playing was much too loud to hear the other’s troubled mumbling. “Could jus’ tell him,” he suggested.

“Yeah, and get a shiner and busted lip and  _ banned _ from steppin’ foot on his property in response. That ain’t gonna happen, Dally,” Two-Bit grumbled, but then his expression lit up with an idea. “You could be my wingman. Help me maybe work up to it.”

“Thought I was already your wingman.”

“Oh, well, yeah.” A smile dropped from Two-Bit’s lips, but it quickly returned. “Thought to remind ya.”

  
Dally scoffed in amusement and rolled down his window to blow out some cigarette smoke, dropping his cigarette butt on the passing road. The car ride went silent, Two-Bit driving aimlessly through the streets of Tulsa, not exactly knowing where he was going. Driving was soothing, allowing him to forget his worries temporarily.

Minutes passed, and Dally looked over at Two-Bit. “Y’know,” he started, breaking the silence, “you might not get beat up and kicked out.”

“What?” Two-Bit asked, confused at the sudden statement. He furrowed his brow and looked at the blonde, who rolled his eyes in response.

“Darry maybe won’t beat you up for being gay for him.”

“How do you know?”

“Looked mighty happy the other day when you both came out of the bathroom. What the hell were you two doing in there anyway? Getting it on?” 

Red bloomed across Two-Bit’s cheeks, and he cleared his throat. “Nah, just fixed up his bandages. He wasn’t gonna replace ‘em on his own. His cuts were gonna get infected.”

Dally laughed. “I bet that’s all that went on.”

“It’s true!”

“Uh-huh. Anyway, he looked really happy to be with you. When you turned back to wave him goodbye, he then looked all sad like he was gonna miss your dumb ass.”

_ Miss me? _

Two-Bit’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t even noticed Darry’s expression as they were leaving. He felt his stomach fill with butterflies. He had to force down the grin that wanted to come to his lips, not wanting to get his hopes up. It was normal to feel sad when a good friend left. Dally probably was reading too much into it. “Surely it was just his neutral face. He normally looks sad,” he huffed, shoulders slumping. The thought didn’t leave him, though. 

_ What if Darry really did miss him? _

“His eyes normally have a look of longing in them?” Dally asked.

“Never thought you’d know what longing looked like,” Two-Bit chuckled. Dally leaned over and smacked him upside the head, earning an “Ow!” from him. “That wasn’t an insult!” 

“Sure as hell sounded like one.”

“It wasn’t.”

Dally nodded, but his eyes showed he didn’t believe him. “Anyway,” he said suddenly, getting their conversation back on track. “I’ll help you. Helping you will get these talks to stop. You’re not shy.”

“I know,” Two-Bit sighed. He hated the feeling of fear, shyness, and all those types of feelings. They twisted his guts up, made his mind fuzzy with thousands upon thousands of thoughts that he could never get in line. 

“Start tomorrow.”

“What? No-” Dally narrowed his eyes at him, and Two-Bit huffed. “Alright fine.”

“Good. Drop me off here, I see Shepard,” Dally hummed, a dangerous smile developing on his pale face as he pointed towards the tall man he mentioned. He wasn’t doing anything, just smoking, standing against a building. Dally must’ve had something with him. He wasn’t going to question it. It was normal to see them in fights on the side of the road. Just a normal thing in Tulsa. 

Two-Bit nodded and turned the wheel, slowly pulling up to the curb in front of Tim. Before things got ugly, he pulled off as quickly as he could.


	9. Nine

Two-Bit’s been acting strange, more strange than usual. 

Tuesday, he came up to Darry, looking nervous, his eyes big and full of fright; it wasn’t a good look on him. He said he had something to tell him, yet all he told him was a knock-knock joke. 

“Knock knock.”

“Who’s… there?”

“Uh- F...figs?”

“Figs who?”

“Figs… figs the doorbell, it’s um… broken. Not workin’. You need to fix it.”

Darry had laughed at the joke, but he couldn’t help but notice the nervous tone to Two-Bit’s voice and his hesitation before every few words he spoke. After his joke, Two-Bit looked ashamed, but he hid it well behind a smile, but his eyes gave it away— they still held the same fear. He immediately went to Dally, who had been sitting in the living room, and he started laughing as soon as the redhead said something to him, his shoulders slumped. Odd.

Wednesday, it was similar. Two-Bit walked up to him and asked if they could talk. Darry was happy to— ecstatic, really. However, his face wore the same expression as the day before. He wanted to ask what the face was for, but the redhead was already talking.

“So, I wanna… uh,” he started, hands tight around the beer bottle he had gotten from the fridge.

“Yes?” Darry said, his voice calm, a kind smile on his lips.

“I wanted to tell you t-that… Actors tell each other to b-break a leg because every play has a cast. Yeah, you know that?”

Another joke. He felt his smile drop some, but he still let out a chuckle, not having heard the joke before. Dally’s laughter was louder, though, and when Two-Bit went back to him, he mumbled something to him. 

“Jeez, you’re pathetic.”

_ Why is Two pathetic? _

His mind began wandering that night, wondering what Two-Bit had wanted to tell him. Maybe he wanted to tell him about what had been bugging him for all this time. God, that thought had just left his head a day or two ago, but now it was back due to the redhead’s behavior. His chest hurt at the fact he couldn’t trust him anymore to talk to him normally just like they used to when they were kids. Two-Bit used to tell him everything.  _ Everything _ . Even the things he’d rather not hear. But that was what he liked about Two-Bit: he wasn’t afraid of sharing his thoughts. It was something we wished he did more often; he’d never been one to share much about himself. 

The same routine repeated for the next few days, and his laughter was getting as fake as Two-Bit’s smiles. He did, one time, let out a real chuckle at a comment Dally made: “I’ve seen Johnny stutter less.” Truly, he was right on that one. Two-Bit had been stuttering up a storm talking to him. It was like he was flipping quickly through songs on the radio or channels on TV. It was amusing, don’t get him wrong, but it still made him feel sad that he and Two-Bit were growing distant. He hated how his brain would get his hopes up, thinking Two-Bit was going to say something different, but alas, he never did, just some random joke that he had to force out of himself. 

_ Please talk to me. _

The sixth day that it happened, he looked the same, started to go back on his same spiel, but this time, he interrupted. “Two, c’mon. Jokes can’t be the thing you gotta tell me,” he sighed, a frown on his lips. Two-Bit immediately shut his mouth and looked down, his hand coming to rub the back of his neck.

“Uh. W-what did the man say to the female police officer when she said ‘Anything you say can or will be held against you’?” he said, voice rising with a fearful pitch. 

“Two. No.”

“Ti-”

“Two-Bit.”

Two-Bit shut his mouth again, his fake smile falling back into a frown. His face was never meant for a frown to be expressed on it. He was trying to bring the smile back to his lips, but it was no use to. It was clear to even astronauts in space that he was faking and covering up something.

“Can you just be frank with me and tell me what you really wanna say?” he asked, his hopes rising once more when his eyes locked with Two-Bit’s shaky ones. He’s trying to avoid eye contact with him now. He felt a frown of his own tug at his lips.

“I-I don’t think I can be Frank, Darry. I’m Two-Bit.”

Dally suddenly got up from the couch he lounged on. Annoyed with the repeated routine of the redhead and him not listening to the bits of advice he gave, he left, screen door squeaking to announce his departure. The sound made Two-Bit’s heart race. Did his wingman just ditch him? 

Sighing, Darry stepped the slightest bit closer to his friend, the toe of his shoe making the floor squeak beneath it, recapturing Two-Bit’s attention. “Keith,” the redhead’s eyes grew wider and more panicked at the use of his real name, “just be honest. I ain’t gonna judge you.”

“Yes, you will!” he snapped, a rare voice crack interrupting the sharp words, taking Darry by surprise. Two-Bit never got mad at him. Never ever. 

Keeping his voice calm and level, Darry asked, “Why? You’ve told me worse.” He remembered when, in eighth grade, Two-Bit ran to him, clammy and pale, blubbering about how he had just thrown up on his first-ever girlfriend after they had their first kiss. He still had flakes of puke at the corners of his lips. Not a pretty sight, but it was rather amusing. Two-Bit, somehow, found that to be one of his greatest moments in school. He wasn’t even embarrassed about it; he just felt bad for poor Lisa, running her to the office for a change of clothes. 

So, he could tell him about him blowing chunks on a girl, but not about what’s stuck in his head?

Two-Bit’s cheeks became a blazing red, his face scrunched up in frustration. The words wanted to escape him, dangling on his tongue, waiting to be spat out in a spew of anger. No, the anger wasn’t at Darry, more so, himself. It really was pathetic that he couldn’t just man up and tell Darry he had something for him, or, well, more than just a “something.” He was having a multitude of dreams about him, which really meant what he felt wasn’t just “something.” It was a crush. A huge crush that made him feel all weak in the knees and soft for Darry. It was scary how a person, let alone a person of the same gender could affect him so much.

Two-Bit took a deep breath and shook his head, limbs vibrating, his body wanting so much to just release all his anger, explode with shouts and swears that’d make a sailor blush. “You’re jus’ gonna get mad with me,” he managed out, looking away from Darry.   
  
“Keith, now we both know that ain’t true--”

“Stop pressin’, pretty boy! Forget this happened!” Two-Bit suddenly yelled.   
  
_ Did… Did Two just call him pretty? _

Warmth rose to Darry’s shocked face, but before he could’ve said something in response, Two-Bit stomped out of the house, his feet striking every weak board on the floor. Strained squeaks followed him as he left. Darry’s shoulders dropped as he left, and guilt twisted his guts up. A murmur of an apology came from his lips, but it was too late for it. Two-Bit was gone. His comment stayed with him, though. He knew he’s pretty; it’s been told to him ever since he was little. But, when Two-Bit called him it, it… felt special, even if it was forced out in anger, made him feel all fuzzy inside even if guilt was stressing him.

With a sigh, he turned and went to go start supper, for his brothers and whoever else showed up at his home. His eyes caught a glimpse of a blob of black slung over the countertop, though, as he turned. He paused and went closer to get a better look of it. It was Two-Bit’s jacket. Darry’s eyes widened a bit as he picked it up, the jacket heavy in his palms and warm from the man wearing it just minutes ago. The leather was smooth and well kept, surprisingly. Darry would’ve never thought a guy whose room is an absolute hazard to walk through to keep his jacket looking as nice as it did. Bringing it a little closer to himself, he could smell the faint scent of cigarettes that stained the inner lining, alongside the smell of beer, and a hint of a cologne that he never thought Two-Bit to wear.

He bit his lip and hugged the jacket against himself. The odd mixture of scents weren’t horrible together-- he barely even noticed the cigarette smell anymore. It almost comforted him from the tensions between him and his friend. Maybe-- his eyes lit up with a thought-- he could return the jacket in the next day or so and get Two-Bit to talk to him then. The jacket could be a peace offering!

He folded the jacket gingerly over his arm and brought it to his room where it’d be safe from the guys, a smile returning to his lips as he placed it on his bed. He silently hoped it would work. He missed his buddy truly. It didn’t help that they couldn’t hang out as much as they used to, with him working two jobs and all. 

He didn’t expect him to miss him to the point he only ended up falling asleep with the jacket clutched tight in his arms.


	10. Ten

The jacket remained with him for longer than he had meant for it to. Darry was going to give it back! It wasn’t his; he had no right to keep it. For some odd reason, however, he could let go of it. Just holding it helped him calm down while stressed and helped him sleep at a time that wasn’t midnight like it was a child holding a loved toy. It comforted him. Plus, Two-Bit hadn’t come over since he shouted at him. He probably felt bad, and he felt bad too. He shouldn’t have pressed him, and he should return his jacket soon.

Darry sighed, looking down at the shiny garment in his arms, his fingers running over the seams and the few scuffs that decorated the leather, memorizing the faint texture. He couldn’t understand why he couldn’t let it go. Could it be because he simply missed his buddy? Maybe, but that answer didn’t seem right. There was some piece he was missing with it, once again, he couldn’t pinpoint what.

Two-Bit calling him “pretty boy” still echoed in his mind, like it had significance to his dilemma. It made his chest feel all warm, his heartbeat fast, all the same reactions to his previous girlfriends— even if it was shouted at him. Yet, it was impossible that he felt that way for Two-Bit, he’s concluded that already. Men don’t like men like that, and if they did, it was wrong. Right? It didn’t seem all that wrong though.

Another sigh came from him, and he slid down his pillows, back flat against his mattress, jacket still in his arms. His mind was so clouded, so confused, jumbled; he hated it. Nothing was fixing him, the other’s jacket just dulled it with the familiar scents.

_ Knock Knock- _

Darry shot up like he was electrocuted, and he frantically stuffed Two-Bit’s jacket under his comforter before shouting, “Come in!”

Sodapop’s smiling face appeared in his room, dressed in his DX uniform, hair messily styled. “Hey, Darry,” he hummed, leaning back against the doorway, arms folded over his chest. His brown eyes sparkled with their usual amusement.   
  
“Hey.” Darry quickly glanced at the odd lump in his blankets and swallowed, hoping it wasn’t too noticeable or weird-looking for Sodapop to go investigating. “What do you need, kid?”   
  
“Wanted to check if you were awake. I need the truck keys,” Darry nodded and turned to rummage through his nightstand. “You’re up pretty late, good thing you don't gotta work today,” he noted. Darry looked up at his alarm clock and let out a shocked laugh. It was nearly ten— he usually woke up at six, seven if he had stayed up a little later than normal, but ten? Yeesh. 

“Guess I was a little tired,” Darry shrugged, finally finding his keys and carefully tossing them to his brother. “Have been workin’ a lot.”   
  
“More than ‘a lot,’” Sodapop scoffed, catching the keys perfectly in his palm. “I’ll be home ‘round eight-ish. I’m gonna drop Ponyboy off at a movie. He’ll be with Johnny and Dally, so don’t go worryin’ yourself after some much-needed sleep.”   
  
Darry nodded. 

Goodbyes were muttered, and Darry was left alone once more after the front door squeaked open and slammed shut, the roar of his truck no longer rumbled in his eardrums. At first, he loved having the whole house to himself, able to peacefully read and bake whatever he pleased, but with all the tension between him and Two-Bit, the silence no longer existed. It got crowded with questions and thoughts. He wished for them to be gone, have closure of sorts just so his brain would stop screaming at him. He already knew something was wrong, he didn’t need to be reminded of it every time his brain had the chance to wander. 

_ I gotta stop thinking like this. _

_ It won’t stop. _

_ But what if… _

A familiar warmth bloomed on his cheeks as he thought about actually  _ dating _ the redhead fool. His hands suddenly met the familiar fabric of the other’s jacket again, dragging it back to his chest, inhaling the leather’s odd yet comforting scent. Butterflies began to tickle the inside of his stomach and ribs, thinking about that man’s dopey smile whenever soused, that little twinkle that appears in his eyes when he had something witty to say. The faint image made the corners of Darry’s lips curve upward without meaning to. His head met the soft cushion of his pillow, and he only could imagine it was him, or well, his chest. The lack of whispery inhales and exhales and a heartbeat kind of ruined the picture painted in his mind. He still liked the thought though; it seemed to put his other, more insistent, thoughts at ease. He tilted his face into his pillowcase and murmured, “What are you doin’ to me?”

“Darry?” a voice suddenly called out, an all too familiar voice. Darry’s heart began to race. A soft patter of footsteps gradually made their way down the hall to his bedroom door, searching for him since he hadn’t replied. He hadn’t even heard him open the door. He was much too powerful on his mind, able to make him lose his train of thought in a second. Hastily, the small jacket in his arms was stuffed back under his comforter, looking fearful when his door opened after a quick rap of the other’s knuckles on the wood. A freckled face appeared in the polite crack he had opened his door to, and a look of confusion took over his initial awkwardness.

“Uh, hey,” Two-Bit muttered, fingers bent tight around the corners of the door. “I think I might’ve left my jacket ‘ere. Have you found it? I don’t look real as handsome in hoodies,” he attempted to lighten the faint awkwardness in the air with a small chuckle.

_ You probably look real nice in a hoodie. _

Darry cleared his throat and blinked away the embarrassing thought. “I haven’t seen anythin’, Two,” he lied straight through his teeth, flinching on the inside as the words left his lips. It was wrong to lie to Two-Bit, especially now that he looked so let down. He had owned the jacket for a long time, a hand-me-down from his father that’s been glued to him since he was at least ten. The last thing he really had left of the guy, but the redhead never acknowledged that. He hated him. God, did he want to fess up right then and there and toss the garment at Two-Bit so he wouldn’t have to see those sad, almost puppy dog-like, eyes. In an act to redeem himself, he offered to help look for it around the house. His guilt of lying immediately lifted from his gut when seeing the relieved look on Two-Bit’s face. 

“Thanks, man. Sorry for not checkin’ in sooner.”

Darry softly assured him it was alright, knowing he just needed to cool off. He stood from his bed, still in his pajamas. “Check the coat closet, perhaps, I’ll look in the living room. I’ll help you. Then we’ll go from there, ‘kay?”

“Okay.”


	11. Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Haven't been motivated to continue this fic much, but here's an update! Hopefully, I can start posting here more.
> 
> Also, I am currently trying to update the previous chapters a bit, as I have improved a bit since the first chapter, and the storyline was a bit... embarrassing. Might change the title too, but who knows yet! That might come around once I am done with this story ^^

“It ain’t here, Darry.”

“Keep lookin’, you never know.”

Two-Bit sighed, pouting slightly as he tossed a pillow onto the recliner. “It’s probably at home, I’m fussin’ for nothin’,” he grumbled, walking back to the couch he had checked five times in the past twenty minutes. 

“I have a feelin’ it’s here though,'' Darry pressed, shouting from the kitchen with the jacket back in his arms, anxiety making his heart vibrate his ribs with its thumps. If Two-Bit caught him with his jacket, he would be shamed and yelled at by him. God, he was dumb to even have taken it, but it was amazing having it, and it would even more amazing to proudly return it with a made-up story and maybe receive a tight, grateful hug from Two-Bit. His hugs were always the nicest. The man was always really warm and inviting, it made every interaction with him special in some way. 

“Check Pony and Soda’s room, they could’ve taken it,” he then suggested, glad he couldn’t be seen all nervous. “You know how they like to pull pranks. They stole Steve’s tools once for that treasure hunt once, ‘member?”

A groan could be heard from the living room, making Darry hunch with guilt, then footsteps traveled down the hall, a squeak of a door echoing to the kitchen. Good, that buys him time to think of an act he could pull off as he returned the jacket to Two-Bit. He could present it to him elegantly, maybe earning a laugh from him. Or maybe, he could slip it to him with a simple “here” and earn a smile. Two-Bit needed to smile, he seemed glum the more he had to look for his jacket. Oh, he couldn’t decide. He wasn’t ever good at deciding. 

“I only found dust bunnies and glitter and skidmark underwear… Ew,” Two-Bit muttered, walking into the kitchen, eyes down, wiping his hands off on his jeans. Darry froze, jacket to his chest. Luckily, he was facing away from the other man. Unluckily, he had no way to hide the jacket quickly. “Tell your brothers to bathe themselves better. Bet their sheets are brown too.”

“Heh, will do,” Darry replied, biting his tongue, not focusing on the earlier comment. “Hey, I, er, uh, found somethin’ under the table that may make you happy.”

“You did?”

Darry turned around and smiled awkwardly, holding out the jacket. Two-Bit’s eyes immediately widened, shoulders falling as relief washed over him. He rushed over and took his jacket from him, smiling wide enough to show off the chipped canine in his mouth. “How could we have missed it?” he laughed in disbelief, checking the leather to make sure there was no damage to the jacket or any dirt or stains. “And this was under there for a few days too! There ain’t a speck of food or dirt on it. Hell, it looks  _ cleaner _ than it does normally.”

Darry nodded, arms glued to his sides nervously. He silently admired how excited and happy the man looked, how his eyes lit up from the sight of his “lost” jacket, how his imperfect smile was perfect in the best ways, dimples pressing into both of his freckled cheeks. God, he was losing himself there. “Aha, guess the floor cleaned it,” he murmured, holding the side seams of his pajama pants in tight fists. Two-Bit snorted and looked up at Darry with those sparkling eyes, making the older man’s breath get caught in his throat. They were like diamonds, shifting with all the different hues that made them an overall gray. He could get lost in them despite how foolish it sounded. 

“Thank you, Darry,” he sighed, folding the leather over his arm. Darry nodded, smiling wider just because the other man was smiling so wide. “Guess it was kinda stupid to worry ‘bout such a thing. Yeah?”

“No, not at all,” Darry immediately assured, placing a hand on Two-Bit’s shoulder, a sudden movement done mindlessly which had his heart jolting. He kept himself cool, though, unworried from the simple, friendly affection. Two-Bit seemed fine from the action, just a bit flushed. It was probably a bit warm in the house, no air conditioning quite yet or breeze for him to open the windows for. “Would you want to stay a little longer? Don’t think you got too much goin’ on.”

Two-Bit chuckled. “What’re you? A stalker?”

“No!” 

“How do you know so much ‘bout my life then?”

“Two.”

“Okay, okay… You’re willin’ to have me here?”

Darry felt his heart flutter, and he nodded. “Of course, anytime.” 

Two-Bit fought back the urge to show his excitement from such simple words. He took a step forward and brought his arms to embrace Darry, originally meaning to hug him loosely, friendly, but instead ended up squeezing him tight, the act seeming much more than friendly. Darry didn’t notice, too focused on how fast his heart was beating. Two-Bit had too much of an effect on him. He was weak, but he didn’t seem to hate it as much as he thought. 

He had unknowingly buried his face into Two-Bit’s greased curls, arms just as tight as the other man’s. The embrace just felt too right, too warm, too amazing. How long had it been since he had had such a hug? Not too long, hopefully.

“Darry?”

“Hm?”

“You’re hurtin’ my back…”

Darry immediately retracted his arms, Two-Bit giggling at the reaction. “Sorry.”

Maybe it  _ had  _ been too long since he had last had a nice, proper hug. That’s embarrassing. He needed to be more… affectionate sometimes. Maybe Two-Bit can help? No, that’s-- no. That’s just weird. Yet, if Two-Bit wanted to-- no. 

He was truly losing himself.

“Nah, I needed that little wake-me-up. Was a little tired when I got here.”

Darry chuckled at the bit of assurance. He then faintly wondered what they would do now, eyes immediately moving to the clock. It was almost noon. His eyes flickered back to Two-Bit.

“Mind if I treat ya to lunch?” he hummed, a kind look on his features. Two-Bit’s expression lit up at the offer, grinning.

“I do  _ not _ mind,” he chirped, chuckling.

“Lemme get dressed then, alright?”

“You don’t wanna live a little and head out in your PJs?” Two-Bit questioned teasingly. “I can join ya, so you ain’t all awkward and alone.” 

Darry scoffed and moved to the hall. “Hell no,” he chuckled before disappearing from Two-Bit’s sight, moving quickly with excitement. The sooner they get out on the road, the better. The more time they have to find a place to eat before things get busy, yet he doubted Two-Bit would be picky about where they ate. It could still give them the time to talk more. 

“Hey, could you drive us? Forgot that Soda had my truck,” Darry shouted as he tucked his shirt into his jeans.

“I didn’t bring my car,” Two-Bit shouted back.

“We walkin’ then?”

“Yup.”

Darry stepped out of his room, now fully dressed. “Let’s get goin’ then,” he said to Two-Bit, who nodded and followed him out the front door, tugging his jacket onto his body.


End file.
